Displaced 'verse: Sentinel and the Outlaws
by Vampykitty-kun
Summary: Pre-Reboot, alternate continuation. Tim retires from the role of Red Robin, primarily due to heath reasons, disassociating himself with the family that seemingly no longer needs him. Although he cannot fight crime running along rooftops, he refuses to be useless, and makes a name for himself following in Barbara's footsteps... whether the rest of family knows this or not.
1. Prologue: We have comeso far

Can be read as a stand-alone story or apart of the ongoing story. It really doesn't matter

Tim Drake's story to the Displaced 'verse in the comic world. (As opposed to YJ).

Takes place directly after the end of the Red Robin comic series on goes on from there.

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_~ Prologue ~_

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It amazed Tim each and every second of the day how far things had come in just a few short years.

If you had told him back during his tenure as Robin that in the future things would be as they were now, that things would have changed so very much, he would have sent you on your way to a padded cell.

He never could have imagined, after how horridly things had started, that he would be living in a top floor penthouse with the Red Hood, playing Oracle to _their_ band of merry men, and women, instead of running across rooftops at Bruce or Dick's side.

That he would be pressed against Jason's side, tucked under his arm, with a cheek against the man's chest as they watched some old action flick he was paying little attention to.

If you would have told him anything of these things he'd have thought you crazy.

But now that was his reality.

He took pleasure in being cuddled up against the man's massive form, breathing in the strong aroma of leather, gun powder, and sweat that was Jason's own unique scent. He didn't care _how_ they got there, just that he was content with things as they were.

Even if Jason's choices in films were a far cry from his personal interests, he loved their movie nights, and found himself looking forward to them no matter how often or seldom they occurred. He simply enjoyed being at his side, knowing that for at least a little while, things were calm, everyone was safe, and that he could let his worry slip away for just a time.

Tonight Sasha was joining them, something that he had become accustomed to over time. The girl lay against the other end of the couch, draped over the arm with her feet atop Jason' thigh. He had grown to enjoy her presence early on much to his surprise. Their age gap was not very large, and they had some common interests. She had warmed up to him as soon as she had known where he stood in Jason's eyes. More surprising was how she and Pru had bonded over time, becoming just as close as Steph and Kara were; although he suspected that they were slowly moving towards the type of relationship Steph and Cassandra had built up.

They would likely never admit it though, so unless he caught them on feed one of these days, it would remain speculation… but that was a curiosity for another time.

Tim let his eyes drift shut as Jason's hand slipped into hair, carding through it gently, and he pressed himself closer, burying his face into the man's shirt.

No… he didn't care about how much things had changed, or how they had managed to get where they were, he was simply content to be where he was at that very moment.


	2. Chapter 1: Walking Away

He had not left Gotham… no, it was impossible to stay away from the dark crime riddled city he had called his home for so very long, the city in which he had made something of himself, flying along rooftops with a cape trailing behind him.

But he had left Bruce, left Dick…he knew well when he was not wanted, having spent years alone in a too big house with nothing but his camera and fantasies to keep him company.

Bruce no longer trusted him…

He did not trust himself.

Dick no longer needed him…

He should have seen that coming.

Should have seen a lot of things coming.

But he had not, and now that was all over and done with. He had moved on. Dick had not called in weeks, and Bruce? He had not seen him since the man left again.

It should hurt more, that he knew, but it didn't.

Red Robin had not been seen in Gotham for well over three months. Tim Drake was still in the public line of sight, despite having handed his rights to the company back to Bruce, and he was still hobbling around on his crutches, covering up an identity he was no longer using. Tam was not speaking to him, and Vicky Vale was having a field day with their cancelled 'engagement'.

He could care less.

He had also handed over ownership of the theatre to Bruce when he had sent the company files over moving into a modest flat within a mostly empty high-rise. It was secluded, private, and within a relatively safe neighborhood as far as Gotham went.

He had immediately put up a false wall, made a command center, set up his computer, security and surveillance systems, for even at the beginning of his seclusion he had had plans.

He had hacked Oracle's feeds. She would never know as he had covered himself so well, Having had a hand in upgrading her systems several times over the years, he had always had a back door to he world. No sense letting it go to waste- letting _him_ go to waste...

He was done. There was no getting around it, not really. He was unwanted within their unhealthy 'family', and his body would not allow him to continue for long. Had he kept it up, it would have surely been a death sentence. His immune system was weakened. His body unable to ward off infection like it had used to. Infection could become life threatening at the blink of an eye… and he was no fool. He body told a story of countless battles, deep, slow healing wounds and the scars left as proof. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He would have been dead within the year had he kept up with that lifestyle.

But… he could not stay away either. Vigilantism had become a part of him. He had given up _everything_ to help the people of Gotham…and _everyone_. Giving up on the city would be giving up on himself. He might as well just roll over right then and there.

But he wasn't needed.

Not yet.

Barbara was Oracle. _The_ Oracle, the 'Bat-family's' go-to person for information. They would never need _his_ assistance in that way, and it was just as well considering the rift that had come between him and the many members of the Bat-clan through one way or another.

But there were others, always others.

Vigilantes popped out of the woodwork at random, in Gotham, in other cities. It was a never ending vicious cycle, and not everyone had the pleasure of a team of finances, of _help_.

And help them he could.


	3. Chapter 2: Belonging

Four months into his new life, Tim had a reliable set up that he was content with, and an identity unknown to the rest of the Bat-clan.

He called himself… _Sentinel_.

It was blunt, to the point, and fitting.

He would have felt guilty had he needed to lie. But no one even questioned his absence.

Bruce, too busy with Batman Incorporated to do little more than check in with Alfred briefly each day.

Dick too distracted with Damian, being a mentor to the small angry child instead of his father.

Barbara, too busy carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Cassandra in Hong Kong, doing her best to follow in Bruce's footsteps.

And Stephanie… she was all too used to his absence, his silence, his avoidance of her.

The wounds were too fresh to handle her presence very long. In a world where he had lost everyone, faking her death, no matter what the intentions, without letting him in on it so he didn't have to mourn yet another lost soul, hurt deeper than she could ever imagine…

Initially, when he starting picking through select vigilantes, those he contacted were distrustful. It was not as though he had not expected it be as such at first, not at all. Anyone in their line of work was right to be suspicious of anyone they did not know personally, more so when that someone knew _everything_ about them, what they did, and where they did it. They had a right to be afraid. That information was classified… _precious_. But having that knowledge, and waving it in their faces, seemed to be the one thing that _made_ them listen.

And listening was really for their own good.

The rookie heroes that sprouted up at random were helpless. Most did not make the choice to enter this line of work, having come into powers after some freak accident, or through genetics. Very few were typical non-meta humans. Unfortunately, most of these people had no one to turn to in the hero community. Many hid who they were. Most were scared.

In some cases, he pointed them out to other heroes with similar abilities, matching them with a league member and forcing a rendezvous between the two, in which the worry fell into their hands, never knowing they were set up in the first place. He did not limit himself to Gotham. He could cover a much larger distance when all he had to do is sit in a chair working through ha network.

On the first of such cases, he had sent one teenager into the arms of Black Canary. A petite little thing, scared of her own shadow, terrified to open her mouth, and refused to speak all together all because if startled her shriek could make a room implode. From what he had seen, Dinah and Barbara were slowly but surely coaxing her out of her shell, putting a health glow and smile back on her face. Chances were good that in time, after she gained control of her developed powers, one Alexi Greenfield would be running with the Birds of Prey and Dinah seemed genuinely pleased to have a protégé of her own to care for, for once.

It had made everything he was trying to do seem worth it.

One of the first established 'heroes' he contacted had been a rough journey in itself.

Roy Harper-_Arsenal_, was a complete and utter mess, to put things lightly.

He was still very much hung up over the loss of Lian, and his conflicts with Cheshire, but at the very least he had made an effort to try and pull himself together, even if it meant substitution. He had managed in recent months to clean himself up, avoiding heroine and other such substances like the plague, but had become quite the alcoholic instead. Still, it was a safer alternative, and Tim thanked his lucky stars that he was not going to have to start from scratch with the road to his recovery. It was amazing how effective a simple pep talk every now and then was, even in his electronically distorted voice that Roy received. Apparently all Roy really needed was someone to talk to, someone who was not going to judge him for his past actions, or try to convince him that his new way of doing things was anything but right. Tim was a good listener, and he understood far more than anyone would give him credit for. He knew what it was like to lose someone, many times over, and he knew what it was like to want revenge for that loss and take it, even if he had chosen not to kill Boomerang in the end. Roy was also very much like Jason, whom he was already used to, fully believing that killing the uncontrollable was the only way to stop the death and destruction… and he was not afraid to admit any longer that they were correct.

It would never stop, not the way Batman went about things, he had come to accept that. But he also knew that for any of them to cross that line, it would break them, himself included. He did not have it in him.

For Roy, and for Jason, they had already hit rock bottom. Anything they did from that point on was their way of climbing out of their own personal hell hole. They could do what most others could not.

And with _his_ help, it could be done safer without innocent people getting caught in the crossfire, and without _them_ getting themselves killed in the process.

As such Jason was the second established vigilante he reached out to, and in turn, Scarlet as well.

Forming a minute amount of trust was incredibly difficult when it came to the Red Hood. Severe distrust came naturally to the man, and he was not one to readily accept help, from any source, let alone one who would not reveal his face or name. He perhaps had Bruce to blame for that, among other things.

For weeks Jason ignored the phone calls, the emails the instant messages. He trashed several disposable phones in the beginning, unbelievably frustrated that Tim's blank number kept managing to dial his ever changing numbers. It got to the point that Jason had chosen to forgo one altogether, until Tim had started playing with the pay phones. He had watched Jason become increasingly unnerved, until finally the man began listening, courtesy of the girl, Sasha. Tim had resorted to sending her the files, feeding her blueprints and security codes, locations of villains at large, petty or ruthless. When his information checked out, time after time, and the ease of their projects increased, he could see Jason's stubbornness gradually dissipate. Things did not always end in bloodshed, or death, but Tim would be lying if he said there were no casualties.

The trust wasn't there, not at all, but it was progress.

And that was all he could ask for.

With time, Jason finally began to respond to his messages personally. He was bitter, always hesitant, accusing…constantly asking him what his angle was, what he wanted in return, and adamantly stating that he wasn't obligated to do a damn thing for him just because he was giving out valuable information.

Jason never once believed that he did not want a single thing… but he did take advantage of what Tim offered up.

It had not been long after his start at all when Pru had shown up at his doorstep, or rather, when she had appeared on his balcony one night nearly giving him a heart attack…

He had not been sure if he should be impressed or unnerved that Ra's knew what he was up to even when Bruce and the others were in the dark. He settled on staying skeptical. He wasn't foolish. Ra's wanted him for his own purposes. He had earned the man's attention, and had impressed him by holding his own during a direct attack, something very few were capable of.

Ra's had released Pru into his care. Offered her up as a gift to end any bad blood between them as of late. His own little way of trying to get him back on his good side, opening up potential mingling in the future he figured. He knew he would never join Ra's al Ghul, but it would never stop the man from trying he supposed, and he was too potentially valuable to eliminate as well. Regardless, it was nice to see her again, and in the lonely little world he had built for himself, hiding his face and voice from those he spoke to, it was a relief to hold a normal conversation once more.

He was unsure of where she was staying, but she kept close, and seemed to turn up when he needed her most. He liked to think she was enjoying being free of Ra's commands, able to do as she pleased for the most part, whilst he occasionally sent her on a small mission of her own from time to time.

All in all, he was content with things as he pulled everything together.

He was taking baby steps, but slowly he was putting together his new world… and someday he might even come to enjoy it.


End file.
